


MirroR or The Wall Slam Scene, Uninterrupted

by Nadzieja



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bittersweet, Conflicted Aziraphale (Good Omens), Desperate Crowley (Good Omens), First Kiss, Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Art, Introspection, Just internal monologues, M/M, No Dialogue At All, No discussing emotions, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), POV Crowley (Good Omens), Repression, Unhappy Ending, Wall Slam, whiteleyfoster's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24377683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadzieja/pseuds/Nadzieja
Summary: Their breaths are mingling in the limited space between the words unspoken and Crowley wonders if this is something a demon like him is allowed. | Aziraphale can't allow himself to enjoy it through the guilt he's feeling, can't allow himself to enjoy it the way he always dreamed of.Short re-imagining of the wall scene + a kiss, from both angsty pov's.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 82





	MirroR or The Wall Slam Scene, Uninterrupted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Wall Slam Scene](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/624958) by WhiteleyFoster. 



> I saw this ^ wonderful art by @whiteleyfoster and it spoke a thousand words to me (okay, so maybe it was seven hundred words, but you get the idea), so this happened.

Aziraphale feels his back pressed to the wall, Crowley's hands clutching his lapels and the pressure of their bodies against each other - the safe distance he worked so hard to preserve is now gone.

He can feel Crowley's breath on his skin in the short space between their lips, the intensity of his gaze behind the plexiglass wall.  
The tip of the demon's tongue darts out to wet his mouth and Aziraphale is drawn to the view like a moth to the flame.

He knows he wants it. He knows it's something he cannot have.

Crowley closes the remaining distance between their lips, just as there is no distance between their hearts. Leaning into intimacy is easy, uncoiling after all those years is not. Aziraphale can't allow himself to enjoy it through the guilt he's feeling, can't allow himself to enjoy it the way he always dreamed of. Too afraid that the hot and insistent touch on his tongue might leave a mark on him somehow for others to see and retribution will come for both of them. It torments his heart in a way he hadn't expected, pulls it into opposite directions. It's only a matter of time before it tears.

And yet, his lips part without hesitation spared from the thoughts that render his hands limp and unresponsive. 

He has waited for this for so long and now he's going to ruin it.

Despite all that, Crowley holds him firmly by the collar and kisses him with six thousand years of longing and desperation melting on their tongues, like he can sense Aziraphale's doubts through the skin, like he wants this moment to last. The realisation makes Aziraphale's heart sink. 

It's over too quickly and when cold air brushes his mouth again he looks up to see Crowley's face filled with doubt. For a second he thinks the demon might even apologize to him and he doesn't know if he could survive that. _Please don't say it, please don't._

"Good morning, gentlemen. Sorry to interrupt…"

They both turn around to the stranger and the moment's gone, tossed in the well of things they never talk about, alongside the note for holy water, thermos and his miraculously saved books. 

***

Crowley didn't mean to snap like this, didn't want his emotions to bubble up, but Aziraphale's words hurt him more than he expected. Not because of what he said, but because of what he meant by it. Deep down he knew that the angel wanted impossible things and still it ached to not be able to give them.

But now. Now.

Their chests are almost flush and he can only imagine how it would feel to have them pressed together, skin on skin. Their breaths are mingling in the limited space between the words unspoken and Crowley wonders if this is something a demon like him is allowed.

Aziraphale's gaze drops to the unconscious move of his tongue and that's when Crowley leans in, very slowly, there is time to move away and there is time to-

Crowley's lips land on the angel's and he can't quite believe the reality of all this. His tongue licks experimentally and is invited in. Together they taste the sweetness of the moment and bitterness of the past years and it fills Crowley's chest with something that feels awfully lot like hope.

He feels the slight tremble of Aziraphale's limbs underneath and is painfully reminded that his angel makes no motion to _touch_ him. In a way he keeps to his side, like he always does.

 _I can't_ , it says. 

_I know_ , angel.  
Of course he knows, it's not something you forget. 

_It's okay_ , Crowley responds through the tightened grip of his palms and the pressure of his kiss, though it feels like a death by a thousand cuts. This has to be enough, is enough.

He would make it last forever if he could, but he's already lingered way past what he's allowed. The clock strikes twelve on the tower, the magic and luxury is gone.

He pulls away and what he sees on Aziraphale's face, makes him want to apologize immediately. Afraid that the angel might disappear for years, leave him to walk the world alone.

He won't apologize, not for this. His mouth opens on its own accord, curse his stubborn heart-

"Good morning, gentlemen. Sorry to interrupt…"

He takes a few breaths to steady his mind and turns away first, before the rejection in Aziraphale's eyes shatters his heart entirely.

This is enough, he lies to himself as he walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [@teslatherat](https://teslatherat.tumblr.com/) on tumblr
> 
> Another work inspired by [whiteleyfoster's art](https://whiteleyfoster.tumblr.com/post/612585496466587648/if-my-people-hear-i-rescued-an-angel-ill-be-the) \- [ Rude Notes ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23349949)  
> (Content warning for implied torture, but mostly fluff and French Revolution smut)


End file.
